


Toys of Desperation

by TheHazardsofLove13



Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post-Canon, Vampire AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 11:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14893634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHazardsofLove13/pseuds/TheHazardsofLove13
Summary: Hamlet was barely clinging to life, but he still feared to die. And Horatio knew that he could not let him. He would let himself and his whole world burn before he let Hamlet die.Horatio bit into his wrist and let his blood fall into Hamlet’s mouth. “Drink from me, sweet prince.”





	Toys of Desperation

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a thing I've been wanting to write for ages and now here we go!

The duel was held on the marble floors of the palace. This was both a pro and a con, Horatio knew from Hamlet’s thoughts as he walked into the room, Horatio following at his heels. 

Hamlet appeared calm in all aspects, even jovial, but Horatio knew better. His mind was completing a million calculations a second, assessing the skill of Laertes against his own, the likelihood of some plot by Claudius, and under it all, there was an undercurrent of fear. Despite his midnight contemplations and poetic resignation, now that it came down to it, Hamlet was afraid to die. 

Horatio turned his mental gaze on Laertes and nearly stumbled backwards. There was no calculation in Laertes’ mind. There was no fear. There was only rage and a cold determination cutting through it. One of the foils would be poisoned, Horatio knew from his mind, and if that failed, the goblet that Hamlet would drink from was as well. 

He wanted to shout, but what good would that do? He was under strict instructions to not expose himself no matter what, and there was no way to reveal the plot without revealing how he knew, without revealing his entire kind. Horatio bit his lip, his fangs drawing a small pinprick of blood before it healed. 

It was too late to go to him now, Horatio realized, seeing that he and Laertes were already choosing the foils. Indeed, Gertrude was looking at him with some concern and Horatio hurriedly made his way to his seat. 

As a scholar, Horatio’s worldview was defined by facts, and he tried to find some solace in them now. 

Fact 1: There was a plot to kill Hamlet.

Fact 2: Hamlet was going to die. 

Fact 3: He was going to watch Hamlet die. 

Fact 4: He loved Hamlet. 

Strangely enough, this was comforting. He was going to watch the man he loved die and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Those were the facts, now he could make a plan to deal with it. He was resolved not to look away; he owed Hamlet that much. He would be with Hamlet as he died, as much as he could, and then he would go back to his own kind.

It had been a mistake, trying to study the ways of humans. It had been a greater mistake to fall in love with Hamlet.  
Steel clashed as Horatio went over his plan again and again. Watch him die, bid him goodnight, and go home. It was simple. Foolproof. When Horatio looked down though, he noticed his hands were shaking. He hid them behind his back. 

The fight continued, and Horatio could feel Hamlet gaining confidence as he landed touch after touch on Laertes. 

Claudius offered Hamlet the goblet and again Horatio wanted to scream, to knock it out of his hand. Again, he did nothing. 

Gertrude drank instead of Hamlet and he could feel Claudius’ anguish. In that moment, he almost felt akin to Claudius. They felt the same pain, wore the same mask. They both were watching the ones they love die. 

Laertes’ sword slashed across Hamlet’s arm. The pain Hamlet felt was minor. Horatio felt like his heart was being slowly ripped out of his chest, each individual vein stretching until it popped open, drowning the whole throne room in a sickening waterfall of red. 

The rest of the duel passed in a haze. He felt Gertrude die, followed by Claudius and Laertes, but Horatio’s gaze didn’t leave Hamlet as he felt him slowly weaken. Stay strong, my lord, he silently begged as Hamlet’s steps became more shaky. Please live. 

Hamlet fell to his knees and Horatio was at his side in an instant, cradling Hamlet to his chest. He held Hamlet’s head up, his hand entangled in Hamlet’s dark curls and Horatio wept. Hamlet spoke softly and wiped away Horatio’s tears. 

Horatio grabbed the cup of poisoned wine, knowing it wouldn’t kill him, but almost wishing that with the shattering of his heart, his flesh would lose it’s immortality. But Hamlet knocked the goblet away before he could drink, begging Horatio to live and tell his story. 

Despite Hamlet’s apparent calm and acceptance of his fate, Horatio could still feel he was afraid. Hamlet was barely clinging to life, but he still feared to die. And Horatio knew that he could not let him. He would let himself and his whole world burn before he let Hamlet die. 

Horatio bit into his wrist and let his blood fall into Hamlet’s mouth. “Drink from me, sweet prince.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated.


End file.
